Self-sacrifice
by wild-springflower
Summary: "You can't do that." Jim finally whispered, so quiet even Spock's superior hearing almost missed it. "Please, clarify." "Risk your life for me, you can't do that." *Post Into Darkness*


**A/N: Alright, so I really don't know where this came from. And I honestly don't know if I'm 100% satisfied with it, but whateves. I've been kind of working through writer's block and a lack of motivation lately so I figured whatever I could get out is better than nothing. Please let me know what you think of this, I'd super appreciate any feedback! :D**

Spock awoke slowly, but the first thing he became aware of upon his return to consciousness was that the lights were low, maybe at 15%. The next was that his side pulled painfully when he tried to move. The third was an intense pair of blue eyes glowering at him from a chair by the foot of his bed.

"Captain," He whispered, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. He must have been asleep longer than he had originally estimated.

Jim didn't answer at first, his eyes darting about the room almost as if he were contemplating what to say. Or exactly how to say it. He was curled into himself, both feet snugly resting on the small chair and his arms wrapped around his left knee. It didn't look particularly comfortable but Spock could tell he'd been there a while. "You can't do that." Jim finally whispered, so quiet even Spock's superior hearing almost missed it.

Spock paused in silent contemplation as he came to the conclusion he wasn't entirely sure what it was Jim didn't want him doing. In fact, his memory of how he ended up in the medical bay was very foggy; a fact which caused him slight frustration. "Please, clarify."

"Risk your life for me, you can't do that."

The events of their previous away mission came flooding back suddenly; the miscommunication, though he wasn't sure exactly how that had happened, that lead to the firing of ancient weapons. The stabbing pain as a bullet lodged in his side when he jumped in front of Jim. "Ah."

"Yeah, _ah_." Jim snapped, his feet sliding to the floor with a sharp slap.

"Were you able to determine what angered the natives?"

"Something about two words that sound almost exactly the same but mean _very_ different things, I didn't really pay that close of attention because I was too busy trying to stop _the flow of blood coming from your side_."

Spock allowed Jim a moment to calm down before leveling his gaze at him coolly, "I will not apologize for what I did."

Jim scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Of course you won't."

"I do not regret my actions, I apologize if it upsets you-"

"No, no! The only _if_ here is the one where you died. What happens then Spock, huh?" Jim stood, his eyes seething, as he began to pace the small room.

"Well then let us entertain the idea that I did not step in front of you and the bullet instead pierced you, and _you_ died."

"Oh don't you turn this on me, you don't get to do that. Not after all the time I spent wondering if you were going to wake up, trying to figure out what I would do if my First Officer _died_."

"Perhaps you could have consulted Dr. McCoy, since he and I spent a considerable amount of time contemplating what would happen if our _Captain_ died."

Jim grimaced and his eyes darted to the floor, "Don't change the topic! This isn't about that!"

"I fail to see how it could be about anything else."

Jim shook his head vehemently, his jaw set in a firm scowl. "Ya know what, I don't need to explain myself. You are not to do something like this again, understood?"

"Is that an order Captain?"

"If I have to make it one, Commander." Then without so much as waiting for a response Jim stormed from the room. Spock heard the doctor call his name, but instead of following, he entered the room and sagged with the most outwardly show of affection Spock could recall.

"Well, you're not dead."

"It would appear I am not."

Leonard sighed heavily and sank down into the chair Jim had just recently vacated, scrubbing his face with tired hands. "Yeah well, I won't go into details about how close it actually was. Ya gave us all quite a scare."

Spock nodded once to himself, "I had ascertained as much."

The small room lapsed into a slightly awkward silence before McCoy finally voiced the question that was one his mind, "What'd you and Jim argue about?"

"It was not so much of an argument-"

"Dammit Spock would you just answer my question! Jim just stormed outta here like Klingon's were attacking, and you're sitting here moping." Spock's eyebrows dove at that accusation but Leonard didn't give him time to object, "Seriously, what happened?"

"We had a- disagreement over protocol."

McCoy nodded with a sudden air of understanding, "He didn't like what ya did."

"Affirmative."

"And he asked you not to do it again?"

Spock glanced at the doctor in what could only be described as exasperation, "He threatened to make it an order actually."

Leonard sighed heavily once again, the events of the past mission having obviously taken a toll on him physically. "I'll try and talk some sense into him. Until then you should rest some more, don't go movin' around and ruining my good work."

"It is much appreciated Doctor." Spock responded sincerely. The whole ship would run more smoothly if he and Jim were getting along, but what's more, Spock didn't like when they disagreed. Something just felt _off_ , like the very molecules in the air could sense a disturbance.

 ** _~Enterprise~_**

Leonard found Jim beating the crap out of a boxing bag he'd added when he decided he needed another outlet for excess energy besides the treadmills and bikes. Leonard wasn't quite sure how he felt about the whole thing, especially when the idiot neglected to wear gloves or tape and pounded until his knuckles bled: as he was currently doing.

"You break your fingers I ain't fixing 'em. You can splint 'em and let 'em heal the old-fashioned way."

Jim paused a moment, his breath coming in tired heaves, eyes angry but hiding a touch of uncertainty. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. Now sit, I'm not having a heart-to-heart with you beating the crap out of some bag."

Jim's eyes hardened and he turned back to his current target of aggression, "Don't need one."

"The hell you don't; you just snapped at your first officer."

"Because he did something completely stupid!"

"Because he didn't want you to get hurt!" Bones countered, his own anger and annoyance boiling over slightly.

Jim growled but otherwise didn't respond, just continued to punch the bag in front of him.

Leonard sighed, he needed to find a new way to go about this; Jim was the type of person who fought back when he felt cornered or threatened, so he had to be less aggressive about his approach. "Look, I'm not saying what Spock did was okay, I'm just saying you gotta see his side of things, right?"

"It doesn't matter if I can or not, he can't be doing stuff like that." Jim responded quietly, ceasing his seemingly never-ending war against the punching bag. "Not for me."

Leonard's eyebrows rose and his forced calm demeanor shattered, "Oh so he can do that for someone else can he? Like myself for instance, is it okay if Spock jumps in front of me? Or Chekov? Why are you so special?"

"That's not- you know that's not what I meant."

"Oh no? What did you mean then? Because from here I feel like I understand you perfectly. Why isn't Spock allowed to do something like that when _you_ have ended up in my Med Bay countless times for similar stunts? Why are you the only one allowed to be self-sacrificing around here?"

"I'm the Captain, people shouldn't be _dying_ for me!" Jim snapped, refusing to meet his friend's eye.

"You're the _Captain, you_ shouldn't be dying!" Leonard shot right back, face red in anger.

Jim growled in the back of his throat and leveled a deadly gaze at the bag in front of him, "My life shouldn't be worth any more than someone else's simply because of a rank!"

Bones crossed defiant arms over his chest, "Okay, so we should all be able to risk our lives for each other."

"Look, when we go on away missions, _I_ am in charge. Ergo, everyone's safety is _my_ responsibility, so if anyone is going to get hurt it should be _me_."

"What about the security team, hmm? What about them? Because I damn well know it's their job to protect the people they beam down with; should they be blamed any time someone comes back hurt?"

Jim's eyes flashed and his face morphed into an appalled expression, "What? Of course not!" He almost seemed worried that this was happening on his own ship.

"Then how can it be your sole responsibility to get everyone back unharmed?" Leonard countered, hoping his semi-extreme example would help set things straight.

Jim groaned and stepped back from the bag, "Because it just- it _is_ , it always has been! I don't know how else to explain it. If someone I care about is going to be hurt and I can do something to stop it, even at the expense of my own well-being, I can't just stand by."

"How do you think anyone else feels Jim? We all care about each other out here, hell I'd go so far as to say we consider one another family. You protect your family, that's what you do."

Jim slammed his eyes shut and ran ragged hands across his face, "It's not just- it's not that simple!"

Leonard shot his hands wide open by his sides, a gesture Jim read as desperation mingled with annoyance. "Then explain it!"

"I just, I can't-"

"Can't what? Can't get your head out of your ass-"

"Can't lose any of you!" Jim finally erupted with a strangled cry, throwing a wild punch that made the sand inside the bag quiver. It was too rough and uncoordinated though, he'd known that before his hand had even connected, and he heard the distinct crack of at least one finger snapping.

The gym lapsed into silence as Jim stood panting and Leonard waited for his friend to calm down. "Why can't you understand that the rest of us can't stand to lose _you_ either kid?" The haggard doctor finally whispered.

Jim swallowed thickly, his eyes locked in a staring contest with the floor, his damaged right hand cradled close to his chest. He honestly hadn't thought about it that way, and when put into perspective like that; he sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a long second. "God I'm an ass." He finally whispered.

"Yeah," Bones readily agreed, earning a mock glare in return. "Don't' worry, we all love ya anyway."

The glare was replaced with a shy grin and a slight rouge to Jim's cheeks appeared, "Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Uh, Bones," Jim called, when the doctor turned to leave. "You didn't- you know, mean it, when you said you'd make my hand heal the old fashioned way if I hurt it?"

As if for the first time McCoy glanced down at Jim's injured hand and barely contained a growl, "Goddammit man, even when I'm _with_ you ya manage to hurt yourself."

Jim was still staring up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Of course I'm not gonna make ya splint your finger, I'm not a barbarian! Follow me to med bay, you've got a Vulcan to apologize to anyway."

Jim nodded his head solemnly, "Yeah."

 ** _~Enterprise~_**

"Ow!" Jim whined as McCoy gripped his hand tightly.

"Oh quit your complaining, you're the one who hurt yourself in the first place."

It only took maybe ten minutes for the bones to be mended back together, the wonders of modern medicine, but Jim stalled for another six before Bones forcefully shoved him into the separated side room that Spock was resting in.

Spock's head tilted to the side in the Vulcan equivalent of surprise, "Captain?"

"Spock," Jim breathed, licking his lips nervously. Finally he released a short breath of preparation, "Look, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, about before. I was out of line, and I know had our roles been reversed, I would have done the same thing. So I can't be mad at you for it, because I completely get _why_ you did it."

"Do you?" Spock questioned before he could stop himself; pain medication had a less severe effect on Vulcan faculties but Spock still found himself having to take great control to not say the first things that popped into his head. That time he'd failed.

Jim released a weary laugh and rubbed at his eyes, "Yeah, yeah actually I do. I don't like the idea of losing people either. And I know I have a problem with taking too much responsibility for things, especially things that are out of my control. Something to work on I suppose."

"On the contrary, I believe you would not be the astounding captain you are today did you not so obviously care for those under your command. And you are correct," Spock paused, something akin to a smile stealing his lips, "I do not like the idea of losing people. It is logical to do everything in one's power to protect those you love."

Jim smiled as well, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting, "So we're good?"

Spock inclined his head deeply in Jim's direction, "Yes, as you would say, we are good."

Jim beamed and nodded his head once, satisfied with the results of their talk. "Cool, get some rest, I expect to see you on the bridge as soon as you are able."

"Of course Captain." Spock lowered himself back down onto his pillow, his heart settling into a feeling he recognized as content. The molecules of the ship were back in order, a fact for which he was most satisfied.


End file.
